


Home Is Wherever I'm With You

by Akalou



Category: SKAM (Italy)
Genre: Drug Use, Homophobia, M/M, use of the Q-slur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-17 06:14:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17554928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akalou/pseuds/Akalou
Summary: It goes like this: a guy slips him his phone number at a party. Elia is surprised, embarrassed, and a bit pleased. He’s not gonna call him, but he keeps the piece of paper anyway, because he has been wondering about boys and it’s nice to know that he could actually do something about it. It’s signed with an XOXO and Matteo in loopy handwriting underneath. He keeps it for two weeks in his pocket, in his school bag, on his desk (foolish, foolish, foolish).It goes like this: his dad finds it.





	Home Is Wherever I'm With You

**Author's Note:**

> This is loosely based on the Come Una Fenice music video. If you haven't seen it, I highly recommend it. Francesco Centorame is amazing in it.  
> Obviously, if you find someone in that kind of state after using drugs, you should call an ambulance immediately.  
> Title from 'Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros - Home'  
> The Janiculum is a hill in Rome. It looks beautiful, look it up.  
> You can find me on tumblr @feministfangurl  
> A thousand thanks to smileyrametta. You're a true babe.

It goes like this: a guy slips him his phone number at a party. Elia is surprised, embarrassed, and a bit pleased. He’s not gonna call him, but he keeps the piece of paper anyway, because he has been wondering about boys and it’s nice to know that he could actually do something about it. It’s signed with an _XOXO_ and _Matteo_ in loopy handwriting underneath. He keeps it for two weeks in his pocket, in his school bag, on his desk (foolish, foolish, foolish).

It goes like this: his dad finds it.

His dad’s angry face is very clear, shouting at him and telling him to get out of his house, telling him how ‘no fucking queer is staying under my roof, you hear me ?’ and to ‘come back when you’ve found your way back to God’. Turning to his mum for help, he sees the same disgusted look in her eyes. His little sister is crying quietly while he grabs his jacket and his school bag with a few random stuff thrown in: his phone, his laptop, his charger, his wallet and as many clothes as he can fit in there. Then he leaves.

After that, it all becomes a bit of a blur.

 

He remembers wandering around in the streets of Rome, considering calling Gio or possibly Marti and the thought of doing that making him sick for some reason. He remembers being lost. Most of all he remembers the shame, the feeling coursing through him, crushing his stomach and his lungs, making breathing an almost impossible task. His phone remains in his pocket.

Somehow, he ends up in front of a bar, or a nightclub. He goes in, can’t think of anything better than alcohol right now. Part of him knows how stupid it is to spend what little cash he has like this. He orders a drink anyway, something tasteless that burns his throat as it goes down. The music is loud, with a booming bass that stops him from thinking.

Some time later, he’s on his fourth or fifth drink, and someone is buying him shots. Then he’s dancing, the same guy rubbing against him lasciviously. More shots. The guy (or is it another one now?) offers him a pill, promising a ‘fun time’. He’s never taken drugs stronger than weed before, but he swallows it down anyway, and then two more.

 

So now he’s in the bathroom, clutching his bag, sweating through his hoodie and shaking violently. The guy is nowhere to be seen. He’s terrified and so, so cold. He can’t move. His eyes keep closing and he thinks he’s losing consciousness. The dark threatens to overtake him.

The last thing Elia sees is a bleached blond head peering over him with a concerned look.

“Elia?”

He stops fighting the dark.

 

Filippo tries to stay calm despite the growing panic in his gut. He grabs the kid, pushes two fingers to the back of his mouth, forces him to throw up. The kid retches over the bowl.

“Come on, Elia, darling, what did you take?”

The teenager is too out of it to answer but he groans, so at least he’s still alive. He’s trembling like a leaf, so Filippo drags him to a sink and splashes his face with cold water.

He grabs the bag Elia is holding, half carries him outside the club and sits him down on the sidewalk. He puts both his palms on his cheeks.

“Elia, are you with me?”

The boy mumbles something that vaguely resembles a ‘yes’ under his breath, but can’t seem to keep his eyes open for very long.

“Okay, you’re coming home with me.”

Elia doesn’t answer, so Filippo hoists him up and takes him home.

After, when he’s tucked Elia into Ele’s bed, he sits next to him to make sure he doesn’t stop breathing in his sleep. Now that the urgency of the situation has died down somewhat, the panic he repressed comes back out with a revenge. He can’t help but keep a grip on Elia’s shoulder for a little while until he’s calmed down. The boy is warm and breathing steadily. Very much alive. They’ve only met briefly at a party before, but he truly was terrified for a moment back there. He plays with his phone thoughtfully, considering whether to call Marti. He hesitates with his thumb on the button. Elia almost looks like a child, lying flat against the mattress, his face tucked to the side. He seems so incredibly vulnerable it’s almost heartbreaking.

He elects to wait until he’s had a conversation with him while he’s fully conscious.

Two hours later, when he’s sure Elia is fine, he goes to bed in his own room. He can’t fall asleep for another hour.

 

After a restless night, Filippo knocks softly on Ele’s door, holding a cup of coffee in his other hand. There’s no answer, but he walks in anyway. Elia stirs, finally opening his eyes and sitting back against the headboard with a groan.

“Hello, darling. How are you feeling?”

“Um… Fine. Where… where  am I?”

Filippo sits in the chair next to the bed and hands Elia the cup of coffee.

“You’re at my place. In Eleanora’s room.”

The boy takes the coffee and eyes him warily while rubbing his forehead. He no doubt has a splitting headache.

“Filippo, right? You’re Marti’s friend, Eleanora’s brother. We met at that Christmas party.”

Filippo nods.

“How did I get here?”

“I found you barely conscious in a club bathroom. You know, I don’t know if it’s a trend with the youth nowadays, but I’d really like it if I could not stumble across any other member of your friend group intoxicated in the Gay Street. I promise there are healthier ways to experiment with your sexuality.”

Elia flinches.

“I wasn’t… That’s not…” he stops for a second. “Another?”

“Yeah, that’s how I met Martino. Though he was in rather better shape than you.”

The boy looks down, visibly ashamed. He fiddles with his coffee before taking a sip.

“Did you tell Marti?” he asks in a small voice.

Filippo sighs.

“No Elia, I didn’t. And I won’t if you don’t want me to, under one condition.”

“What is it?”

He sighs again and looks Elia in the eyes.

“Listen to me very carefully, darling. Drugs are a really serious thing. You probably think you’re experienced because you smoke weed with your friends at parties, but I’ve seen one too many people go down that path to let you do the same. It’s not pretty, and it’s not fun. Now, I don’t know if it was your first time messing with that shit, and I don’t need to know. But you have to promise me it’s the last, do you understand? Next time I find you, I would rather not be dealing with your corpse. So promise me.”

Elia swallows thickly.

“I wasn’t… I don’t…”

“Elia, I had to shove my fingers down your throat to make you throw up. You really scared me.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then:

“I promise.”

Filippo believes him.

“Okay. Join me for breakfast when you’re done with your coffee. I think we have some other things to discuss,” he says while pointing to Elia’s schoolbag, obviously stuffed with clothes.

 

Filippo sets out bread and marmalade on the table. He sees Elia hovering nervously at the edge of the room for a moment before he cautiously walks over and sits down in front of him. Filippo pushes the food towards him and doesn’t say anything until he’s had at least two bites.

“So… You wanna tell me what happened?”

Elia swallows heavily, but remains silent.

“I’m not gonna judge, darling.”

“I just… My dad kicked me out yesterday.”

“Okay...”

Filippo stays quiet, waiting for Elia to continue.

“He found… Oh Christ, he found a phone number a guy had given me at a party. There was a flirty note with it and all. You can be smug now, you were right about ‘experimenting with my sexuality’ or whatever.”

“I don’t feel very smug.”

Elia puts his arms around  himself, looking uncomfortable.

“Please don’t tell Marti.”

“I already said I wouldn’t.”

There’s a beat of silence.

“Can you tell me something?” asks Filippo.

Elia shrugs.

“Why don’t you want to tell Marti? Or even your other friends? The curly haired one… Gio, right? It’s not like they would judge you either.”

Elia shrugs again, his hands nervously twisting the fabric of his hoodie.

“I don’t… I don’t even know what this is, okay? I don’t know how I feel, or what I like, and I can’t… They don’t need to… I just can’t…” he answers. His words seem to stumble out of his mouth, his breath unsteady.

”Okay, okay darling, I get it. You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.”

And Filippo truly does get it, how something that is okay for others still feels so forbidden for yourself, how the fear of other people’s gaze changing can be so overwhelming, even when you know, you _know_ they wouldn’t react badly. How it’s sometimes so difficult to reach out to the people you love when you need them the most.

“For the record, and from what I’ve seen, I think your friends would want to be there for you.”

Elia doesn’t react. Filippo watches him over the table, and the boy still can’t quite meet his eyes. He looks like he’s awaiting the verdict at his trial.

There was never any debate. Filippo simply is not the sort of man who can cross paths with a kid so scared and leave them alone.

“Here’s what we’re gonna do: Ele isn’t back from England for another two months. You can have her room until then. And the couch after that, if you need it. Under one condition.”

Elia looks up sharply, surprised. Filippo stands up, grabs the pamphlet for the LGBT youth center he’d previously put on the kitchen counter and sets it open in front of him. He points to the line that reads _Free counseling sessions every Friday_ followed by a phone number.

The boy tenses.

“Do I have to…?”

“Once. I won’t make you go back if you don’t want to but… I really think you need help. More than I can provide on my own.”

Elia slumps down, then nods tersely.

“Okay.”

Later, when the remnants of breakfast are cleaned up, Filippo goes back to his room to work on an assignment. Just as he’s about to reach the door, he hears it.

“Filippo?”

Elia is hesitating in the corridor.

“Thanks.”

And then, as if scared of his reaction, he rushes off, probably to sleep the rest of his hangover off.

Filippo smiles.

 

Elia doesn’t go to school for two days. Filippo worries but lets him be. By the third morning, when he gets to the kitchen for a cup of coffee before his classes, he sees the boy in the entrance, putting on his jacket, ready to leave. He breathes an internal sigh of relief.

“Have a nice day, darling.”

“Yeah, uh… you too, Filippo.”

They settle into a bit of a routine. Elia is skittish and stays in Ele’s room most of the time. He’s withdrawn, doesn’t talk much, but he goes to school and eats dinner with him. He doesn’t go out at all otherwise. Filippo goes to his classes, works on his assignments and tries not to hover too much. It’s a struggle. Sometimes, they sit in the living room together, Filippo reading a book, Elia watching movies on his laptop. He seems exhausted, like he’s not getting any sleep. The heavy bags set under his eyes seem to worsen with each day and Filippo’s worry grows.

He approaches him on a sunday. He raps his knuckles on the door softly and goes in. Elia is sitting on the bed, staring out the window with a vacant expression. He turns his face to him.

Filippo sits down next to him carefully.

”I booked an appointment for you next Friday at the LGBT center.”

“Oh come on, Filippo…” Elia protests.

”You agreed to it.”

Elia sighs, hugs his arms to his chest.

“Don’t look so put out, it won’t be so bad. Maybe it’ll even do you some good to unload. I can even come with if you want.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Filippo stands up.

“Friday. 6pm.”

“Fine!”

 

On Friday, Filippo brings Elia to the LGBT center. Elia is grumpy the whole way but Filippo can’t help but fret over him, asking if he’s too cold, adjusting his hoodie. He gets his hand slapped away for his efforts.

When they get to the building, they’re greeted by a short haired brunette at the front desk.

“Hey Fili!”

“Hey, Lucia, what’s up?”

Filippo sits on the counter and smiles at Elia.

“You can go through there, it’s the first door on the right” he says, pointing towards a corridor. ”I’ll wait for you here.”

“Okay.”

Elia goes in the direction he indicated.

Behind him, Lucia clears her throat. He turns to face her. She’s looking at him with a smirk on her face.

“What?” he asks.

“Another stray?”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh come on, you’re such a mom. This is the third time in six months you’ve brought a kid here. Where did you find this one? Where do you keep finding them?”

“He’s a friend of a friend, if you must know. He’s going through a rough patch, I thought he might use a little support.”

Lucia smiles and ruffles his hair.

“You’re a good man, Fili.”

He smiles back.

“Anyway, he’s really cute. A brunette, exactly your type.”

He startles.

“No Lucia, what?”

“You’re not gonna pretend you haven’t noticed, because I won’t believe you.”

“He’s not.. he’s...” he stutters.

She gives him a pointed look.

“Lucia, Elia got kicked out of his house two weeks ago and is currently staying at my place. I can’t look at him in that way because it would be really fucking inappropriate of me to put him in that position.”

“Geez, touchy.”

He frowns at her.

“Fine, I get it. You’re right. So what’s been going on with you aside from rescuing hotties from living on the street?”

He sticks his tongue out in retaliation before answering.

“Eh, not much. University is going fine, although it seems like all the professors are giving us assignments at the same time. It’s like they’re doing it on purpose. How are you? Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“That’s because you’re too busy for me when I suggest we go out for drinks.”

She doesn’t actually sound angry while she says it, though, so Filippo doesn’t take it too seriously.

“Oh, please, you and Adriana are way too mushy for me to stand being in your vicinity while I’m single.”

“Get a boyfriend, then.”

“Ouch. That was brutal. No, but for real, I’m sorry. I promise we’ll go out when things have calmed down a bit.”

He sits down next to her and they catch up until Elia gets back from his appointment.

He looks a bit shaken once he’s out, but he walks to Filippo and smiles at Lucia.

“Are we good to go?” Filippo asks.

“Yeah.”

 

On the way back, Elia is silent.

“Are you still mad at me for making you go?”

“I was never mad.”

They walk quietly for a little while.

“You were right, by the way. It felt good to unload.”

Filippo’s mouth twitches in a grin.

“See? Sometimes I do have good advice.”

“Shut up, I’m trying to thank you!” Elia says. He’s obviously making an effort to look annoyed but there’s the beginning of a smile gracing his lips.

Filippo can’t stop smirking.

“So, you’ll go back?”

“Maybe.”

Filippo ruffles his hair fondly.

 

Elia seems more relaxed in the next few days. He’s less skittish, more smiley and  doesn’t seem as reluctant to spend time in the common areas. He’s still quiet, but Filippo can see he’s a little less defensive. He even goes out with the boys on Thursday night and hesitantly asks him if he wants to come with them. Filippo is swamped with university work, so he stays home.

“How would you explain to them us arriving together anyway?”

“Oh, right. I didn’t think of that.”

Filippo ruffles his hair, a gesture that is becoming more and more common between them. Elia represses a smile. He takes to affection like a duck to water.

“Have fun, darling.”

Filippo works through the evening. He has trouble focusing at first, a touch of concern for Elia sitting at the back of his mind. He keeps his phone close in case he needs anything. Maybe Lucia has a point about his mothering ways. In the end, he gets swept up in his assignment and doesn’t see the time go by. Soon, it’s close to 2am, so he closes up his laptop and sets out to make some herbal tea before going to bed. Just as he’s sitting back down with his mug, the front door opens and Elia comes in with a scarf he wasn’t wearing on his way out, swaying slightly.

“Had a good time?”

“Yep, you?”

“Studious. How’s Marti?”

Elia is obviously tipsy and lies down on the couch. His smile is loose and relaxed.

“He’s fine, still disgustingly in love.” The fondness in his tone is obvious.

Filippo sips on his drink while Elia seems to be mulling something over. He quite obviously wants to talk about it. Finally, he opens his mouth.

“I made out with a girl tonight.”

“Okay…”

Filippo isn’t sure what to respond to that. He feels the silence filling up with awkwardness. Elia is quiet for another beat.

“I really liked it. So, I don’t think I’m gay?”

Filippo chuckles.

“Are you asking me or telling me?”

“Telling you, definitely telling you. But…” Elia trails off.

“Yes?” Filippo encourages him.

“So, I like girls, I’m sure of that, but I still have no clue about boys.”

“Well, maybe you need to make out with a boy, see if you like it.”

“That’s what I thought, but how do I go about that? Who’s gay and willing to kiss me?”

Elia turns to him, an intense look in his eyes.

Suddenly, the tension in the air isn’t awkward anymore and Filippo feels his heart start beating wildly, though he’s not sure what the reason is. He can’t seem to form words as Elia slowly gets up. He feels glued to his spot. Lucia’s words come back to him and he notices how handsome Elia is, a thought Filippo hasn’t allowed himself since they started living together. He spares a brief thought to their very first encounter, at that fated Christmas party. The boy’s earring was glinting in the soft light, just like it is right now. His eyes are almost blazing.

Filippo squeezes his mug so hard he thinks he might break it.

“Elia?”

“Yes, Fili?”

Filippo laughs nervously.

“I’m really tired, I’m going to bed.”

Elia seems almost disappointed.

“Oh, alright. Good night, then.”

Neither of them moves for a couple of seconds.

“Okay, good night.”

And Filippo flees to his room. Once the door is shut behind him, he leans against it and takes a deep breath. His heart is still pounding away in his chest.

“What the fuck was that?” he mutters to himself.

 

Filippo is fully prepared for awkwardness after that weird moment between them, but Elia doesn’t act very differently in the next few days. Filippo feels jumpy, though. He can’t seem to escape him. There he is, singing softly under his breath while cooking them dinner some nights, bringing him a cup of herbal tea in the evening, joking with him with mirth in his eyes when they go grocery shopping, coming back from counseling with windswept hair. He does his homework in the living room looking cozy and adorable in a soft jumper. He’s sleep rumpled in the morning, his shirt too big for him and revealing an enticing amount of collarbone. And now that he’s noticing how attractive he is, Filippo can’t stop. His eyes are warm and brown when he smiles at him, his dimpled grin is endlessly charming. They bump into each other once when Elia is coming out of the shower, wearing nothing but a towel around his hips,  and Filippo almost has a heart attack.

“Are you okay, man?” Elia asks in a confused tone. A water droplet is slowly making its way down his chest and Filippo is trying very hard not to stare.

Filippo swallows heavily and gives a noncommittal grunt before scurrying off to thump his head against his bedroom door in frustration. He feels guilty about it, knowing that Elia is in a vulnerable place. At the same time, the image of his softly toned chest and his miles of tanned skinned is burnt behind his eyelids.

The added stress on top of his University work results in a bout of insomnia two days later. At three in the morning, he gives up turning in his bed and gets up. His anxiety is churning out deep in his stomach. He goes out in only his sleep pants to make himself a cup of herbal tea, knowing deep down it won’t solve his problem.

He freezes in the living room, seeing Elia sitting on the couch, deep in thought. The boy turns distractedly towards him before giving him a small smile.

“Can’t sleep either?”

Filippo shakes his head and sits at the other end of the couch.

“What’s going on in your head?” he asks.

“Oh, just… the usual.”

“Do you… still have trouble sleeping?”

Elia shrugs.

“What’s going on with you, then? Why aren’t you asleep, mister Sava?”

“University is stressing me out.”

“Right.”

They’re silent for a little while.

“I have a question. Does your ban on drugs apply to weed?”

Filippo can’t help but laugh.

“You want to get high right now?”

“Why the hell not, dude? It might help me sleep.”

Filippo’s chuckles quiet down.

“Okay, under one condition.”

“Always with the conditions, man. What is it?”

“That you share.”

 

They get high in the middle of the living room at 3.30 in the morning. They have a Disney movie on in the background and they laugh at the cliched plot, but mostly they talk.

 

“I swear to you, drunk off his ass, telling me he had no idea it was the Gay Street and that there were probably a lot of straight guys here anyway.”

“Oh my God, Marti, you disaster.”

“He threw up over the fence and he was so embarrassed. An adorable lost baby gay.”

 

“Anyway, Gio was telling him there was no way it was ever gonna zip up but Luchi kept insisting we try. It took the three of us pulling with all of our strength, but we did it. Fit tiny Luchino inside a suitcase. That’s how we got our group chat name.”

“Jesus, you guys are weird.”

“Don’t be a hater.”

 

“You hungry, Fili?”

“God yeah.”

“I’m making pancakes.”

“You’re a godsend.”

 

Slowly, the mood shifts from telling jokes and giggling at silly things to more intimate and loaded. It’s the kind of quiet in which secrets are shared. The joint has long been put out. They stare at each other.

“I wasn’t even surprised by my father’s reaction, you know. He’s really religious, my mum too, and not in the good way. So I always knew I was gonna lose them. I just thought I had a little more time,” Elia says softly.

“How long have you known?”

“I think… I had a crush on a guy from summer camp when I was thirteen. But, nothing ever came of it, you know? I didn’t wanna deal with it. And I never had to force myself to like girls so I just repressed it. It was all fine. But then, Marti came out. He looked so much happier afterwards. He used to be so withdrawn sometimes, like he was always putting on a front. Which he was, I guess. It brought back all those feelings. For the first time, I wanted to explore it. And before I even got to figure myself out, well… you know what happened.”

Filippo feels an ache spreading in his lower belly, which he can only soothe by tangling his fingers in the hair at the nape of Elia’s neck and squeezing reassuringly. The boy melts further under his touch.

 

“Tell me something.”

“What?”

“Anything. Something about you. We’ve been spending too much time on my tragic backstory.”

Filippo hesitates for a moment. But Elia has been so honest with him, he thinks it’s time to even the playing field. It’s time to let himself be vulnerable. In this moment, it doesn’t even seem that difficult. And for the first time in years, he actually wants to share the story.

“I was seventeen. He was my first boyfriend. I’d come out to my parents; they didn’t care. Not in a ‘we love you no matter what’ way, but in the same way they sent Ele to live with me the minute they found a way not have to deal with her anymore.”

Filippo sighs and gives a self depreciative smirk.

“I guess I was starved for affection. And we loved each other. It wasn’t Marti and Nico levels of epicness, but we did. But he had issues. A lot of shame, a lot of pent up loneliness. His parents weren’t supportive. We went out all the time, to clubs, to parties. He would get drunk off his ass at first. After a while, he’d take pills when offered. Then it wasn’t just pills, and then not just at parties. Soon, it was everyday. I saw him slipping and I felt powerless.”

He stops for a second to swallow heavily. Elia squeezes his hand. He hadn’t even noticed him grabbing it.

“In the end, he overdosed one night at his place. He lived, but his parents sent him to rehab and they moved and changed his number. I never got to say goodbye. I have no idea how he is. If he’s sober now, or if he fell off the wagon, or anything. I just don’t know.”

And Elia looks at him with his kind warm eyes, nothing but understanding.

 

“I think what I’m the most afraid of is never seeing my sister again. She’s ten, it’s not like I can see her behind their backs easily. And even when she grows older, they will probably have gotten to her by then. Convinced her I’m some sort of pervert or something. I miss her so much, she’s the sweetest kid.”

“You don’t know yet that they won’t come around.”

“You didn’t see their faces.”

 

They somehow end up almost curled up together on the couch. The atmosphere is silent as they look at each other. The air is filled with the weight of their confessions. Time is almost suspended and everything feels fragile.

Elia raises a hand and puts it on his cheek lightly. Filippo takes a sharp inhale of breath. He knows what’s going to happen but he’s frozen to the spot, his heart beating wildly. He’s powerless to stop it.

And then this brave, beautiful boy raises up slightly and kisses him. His lips are soft and warm and Filippo doesn’t react for a second. Everything is hazy. Just as Elia tries to move back, Filippo puts his hands on his hips and holds him there. Elia’s mouth twitches and he kisses him again. This time, Filippo can’t help but kiss back. Elia is pressing up against him, his hands are around his neck. Then, Filippo is suddenly being straddled and kissed and kissed and kissed. Elia is a solid weight against him, every point of contact between them burning. His mouth is relentless, his teeth bite softly at Filippo’s piercing. The boy’s  smell is everywhere, making Filippo feel lightheaded.

Elia’s hands slipping down his bare torso towards the band of his pants make him snap back to reality. He grabs the boy’s wrists with shaking hands and breaks the kiss.

“Elia, wait...” he says, his voice breathy.

Elia squirms on his lap, trying to kiss him again. Filippo makes an effort to clear his head, to remember that this is wrong.

“What?”

“Elia, stop, come on.”

The boy finally stills and looks at him. What he reads in Filippo’s eyes makes his face fall.

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry, but we can’t just… I can’t…”

“No, uh, it’s fine. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have.”

He doesn’t sound fine. He gets down from Filippo’s lap and stands up in front of him. His eyes are downcast. He looks disappointed, embarrassed and hurt.

“I’ll just go to bed.”

“Elia…”

But the boy is already fleeing to his room. Filippo is left alone on the couch, feeling like he’s made a terrible mistake, even though he’s fairly certain this was the right decision. Elia is lonely, vulnerable. He’s turning to the only person he can have emotional closeness with. Letting things run their course would have been taking advantage of him.

Despite his reasoning, Filippo can’t sleep  for the rest of the night.

 

The next few days are tense. Elia is definitely avoiding him and when they cross paths, they’re constantly tiptoeing around each other. Guilt is gnawing at Filippo when he sees Elia back to the early days of staying holed up in his room.

Unfortunately, his university professors don’t seem to care about the current complications of his personal life and keep drowning him in assignments. The added workload turns out to be a blessing in disguise, as he can simply bury himself in books to distract himself from the current situation. He barely leaves his room and orders take out for four days straight until he finds a plate of homemade risotto left for him in the fridge. The next day, there’s pasta with pesto, and the next day, roasted chicken. He feels a surge of fondness go through him. The food is delicious.

Filippo can’t talk to Ele because that would be outing Elia. He can’t talk to Marti, for the same reason. He doesn’t feel close enough to his university friends to explain the situation and ask for advice. But he feels like he’s going to explode under the pressure of his emotions.

On Friday morning, he realises he does have someone to talk to that’s removed from the situation while still being close enough to him to understand what’s going on. So he decides to go to the LGBT center with Elia.

Filippo makes efforts at a conversation, which are met with either silence or monosyllabic answers. He resigns himself to a quiet walk. Once they get there, Elia goes straight to the corridor, barely waving at Lucia on the way. Filippo drops down on a chair next to her and puts his head between his hands.

“Did something happen? He seemed to be doing better, but that was just… cold.” asks Lucia, looking taken aback.

Filippo groans, peeking at her through his fingers..

“I fucked up.”

“What did you do now?”

She somehow manages to look both exasperated and patient.

“I didn’t do anything!” he protests.

“Oh come on, Fili. I know you. What happened?”

He sighs.

“We kissed.”

She grins, looking self-satisfied, and then tries to hide it behind her hand as though on second thought.

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s just that I knew he was your type.”

“Shut up, that’s not the point,” he says, annoyed.

“Okay, okay, I’ll reign my superiority in. What’s the point, then? Isn’t it a good thing?”

“No, it’s not! We were high, and he kissed me. I didn’t stop it immediately and now he’s mad at me.”

She looks at him, confused.

“But why did you stop him? You like him, right?”

“Because he’s confused! He’s had his whole life turned upside down, he’s just turning to the only person who knows what’s been going on with him for comfort. He’s projecting his gratitude because I’m giving him somewhere to stay. Also, he hasn’t figured himself out yet and I’m the only available gay guy he knows to experiment with. It would be wrong of me to take advantage of that.”

Lucia seems dubious.

“Okay... Are you sure that’s why, though? He and I talked a few times and he comes off as pretty confident. Like a guy who knows what he wants.”

“Well, he doesn’t.”

“How can you be so sure? Has he told you so?”

“Not in so many words, but I know him!”

She looks at him sadly.

“And I know you, Fili. You’ve had a rough go of things, sure. But you’re allowed to want something for yourself, you know? Stop being such a martyr.”

Now Filippo is confused.

“What do you mean?”

She simply shakes her head at him.

“I’m just saying. You should talk to him.”

 

Filippo doesn’t really feel better as they get back to the apartment, but the sensation of impending explosion has receded somewhat.  He needs to think.

He goes to the kitchen and just as he’s about to put some tea on, he hears a strangled whimper from the entrance where he left Elia to take off his jacket. He peeks his head out to see Elia holding his phone in one hand, the jacket still hanging off his arm. His eyes are wide and he seems to be panicking.

“Elia? What’s wrong?”

The boy simply shoves his phone at him without answering. Filippo takes it in his hands and looks down, mildly worried. The screen is open to the infamous Contrabbandieri group chat.

 

**From Gio : Elia, bro, where are you? marti and i went by your place to get my scarf back but ur dad said you weren’t here anymore? he sounded really weird. what’s happening?**

 

Elia is frozen in the entrance, his breaths getting shorter with each second. Filippo comes closer to him slowly, trying not to spook him. He puts his hands on Elia’s cheeks, forcing him to look up.

“Elia? Elia, breathe. Come on darling, it’s gonna be okay.”

He can feel Elia trembling. They make eye contact for the first time in days, and Elia inhales suddenly. He clasps his hand to Filippo’s wrist, squeezing tightly while he makes a visible effort to regulate his breathing.

“What am I gonna do? What am I gonna do, Fili?”

“Well, first of all you’re gonna calm down and drink some tea with me.”

Elia’s mouth twitches as he represses a smile. His shaking is receding.

“Herbal?”

“Yeah.”

 

“Okay, you have two options.” says Filippo.

They’re sitting at the kitchen table, a cup of tea in front of each of them. Elia has settled slightly, though he’s still restless and feeling obvious anguish.

“Which are?”

“One: you make up an excuse. You had a fight with your dad, went out to clear your head, something like that.”

Filippo lets him mull over what he said. Elia considers this and gulps down a sip of tea.

“And two?”

Filippo looks at him with kind eyes.

“You know what option two is.”

Elia looks down. His head is bowed and he’s flexing his fingers nervously.

“Lying is only gonna push back the problem, you know. They’ll eventually find out what happened, or at least part of it. You’re gonna be constantly worried about it. You don’t need the added weight. Telling the truth would be simpler.”

The boy looks up sharply.

“You think telling them would be easier?” he says in an angry tone.

Filippo sighs and puts his cup down.

“I didn’t say easy. I said simpler. God knows I’m well aware there is nothing easy about this.”

Elia looks chastised, though that was not Filippo’s intention. The boy is so visibly  lost he feels an urge to take his hand to comfort him. He follows his impulse and Elia gives his hand away easily. Filippo squeezes it softly.

“Also, Elia, quite frankly, you deserve to tell them. You deserve their love, and their friendship, and their support. You know they’ll stand with you no matter what. That’s just the type of friends you have and the type of men they are. Stop depriving yourself of that.”

There’s a beat of silence. Elia’s eyes are shining.

“You don’t even know them.” he whispers.

“I’ve met them, and I know Marti. And Marti has told me a lot about you guys. Enough that I can say this without a shadow of a doubt: I wish I’d had friends like that through my coming out.”

Elia doesn’t say anything. His hand, still tucked into Filippo’s, squeezes him back tightly.

“Okay.”

It’s so low it’s barely audible, but Elia seems determined.

“Are you sure?”

Elia nods. He exhales loudly, then takes his hand back.

“Can you text Marti for me? I don’t think I can right now.”

“Yeah, of course. What should I write?”

“Just tell him I’ve been staying here. Tell him to come over tomorrow morning and to bring the boys. I’ll explain everything then.”

“Sure, Elia. Anything.”

 

Elia goes to bed, exhausted from the whirlwind of the last few hours. Filippo represses the need to go check on him and composes a text to Marti.

 

**To Marti : Hey Marti. Elia asked me to send you this. Some stuff happened at home and he’s been staying with me for the past few weeks. He wants you and the boys to come over tomorrow morning so he can explain.**

 

Filippo rubs his forehead. He’s glad Elia made this decision but he can’t help but worry. He goes to his room to lie down.

His phone vibrates as he gets two messages in quick succession. He opens it. It’s Marti.

 

**From Marti : he’s been staying at urs? do the 2 of you even know each other? what’s going on?**

 

**From Marti : nvrmd, of course we’ll be here tomorrow. he’ll tell us himself. is he ok tho?**

 

He smiles softly at Marti’s sweetness.

 

**To Marti : He will be, especially if you are here for him. I think he needs you.**

 

**From Marti : of course, what else would we do?**

 

And even though he knew this would be their reaction, Filippo feels something fierce and protective in him uncoil.

He goes to sleep.

 

Filippo wakes up at around eight the next morning. He checks his phone, but he hasn’t received anything new from Marti. He feels pretty awake, so he goes to make himself some coffee. He’s still too nervous to eat breakfast, his stomach twistep up in knots. He can’t imagine how Elia is doing.

At half past nine, Elia still hasn’t come out of his room. Filippo’s phone vibrates with a new message.

 

**From Marti : we’ll be here in 15 minutes.**

 

Filippo decides to knock on Elia’s door to warn him. When there’s no answer, he pushes it open and goes in. Elia is still sleeping.

Filippo comes closer and sits down on the bed next to Elia. The boy is sleeping so peacefully. He’s on his side, his face half buried in the pillow, his hand lax next to it. Waking him up seems almost cruel.

The boys are coming over soon, though, so Filippo caresses his cheek softly until he opens his eyes blearily.

“Hi...” whispers Elia in a sleep-rough voice.

He stretches lazily, rubbing his eyes with his palm. The sight is almost unbearably cute.

“Hey, love. Sorry for waking you, but Marti sent me a message and they’ll be here soon.”

Elia sits up at that.

“Oh, okay.”

Filippo smiles. He stands and extends his hand to him.

“Come on, I made coffee.”

Elia gives an attempt at a smile and takes the offered hand, letting himself be pulled up from the bed. Filippo starts turning to leave the room but Elia tightens his hold on him.

“Wait, I…” he hears.

When he turns back, Elia is shifting hesitantly from one foot to the other, looking unsure, his eyes downcast. And then he takes one step forward, puts his arms around Filippo’s neck and hugs him close. Filippo is surprised but smiles and hugs him back. Elia is sleep warm and soft against him.

“Thank you.” he hears mumbled against his shoulder.

Filippo laughs softly.

“What for?”

“Just… thank you.”

 

They barely have time for a cup of coffee before the doorbell rings. Elia turns to him with a nervous expression. Filippo squeezes his shoulder.

“I’ll leave you to have some privacy. I’ll be in my room if you need anything. Anything, yeah?”

Elia nods shakily and takes a deep breath, as if bracing himself. Filippo goes to his room while Elia walks towards the entrance.

Filippo closes the door just as the buzzer is pressed in.

He hears muffled voices once the boys come in. He fights the urge to listen in or to pace around his room. Instead, he sits down at his desk and puts on his headphones. He can’t work because he’s too distracted, so he puts on a random sitcom and waits.

He’s not actually sure how much time has passed before there’s a knock on his door. He turns around and puts his headphones around his neck.

“Come in!”

The door opens to reveal Marti standing in the frame.

“Hey,” Marti says.

“Hey, Marti. Come in.”

Marti comes in and sits down on the bed, facing him.

“Everything alright out there?”

“Yeah, don’t worry. Elia told us everything that happened. There’s a cuddle pile going on right now. We got him.”

Filippo feels like he can finally breathe.

“Is this why you haven’t been texting me lately?” asks Marti.

And there’s a bit of guilt adding up to the already existing pile.

“Yeah. I’m sorry, but I was worried I’d let something slip or that I’d have to explain why you couldn’t come over.”

Marti chuckles.

“It’s okay, I get it.”

“How’s Nico?”

As usual when Nico is mentioned, Marti can’t keep a soft grin from taking over his face. It’s incredibly endearing.

“He’s doing well. We’re negotiating with our parents to go on a weekend just the two of us in the south. Something a bit more planned out than Milan.”

Filippo smiles at that.

“So, why aren’t you part of the cuddle pile right now?” he asks.

Marti fiddles with his hands.

“When I said Elia told us everything, I meant _everything_.”

Filippo freezes.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. And I just want to understand what’s going on in your head, because you’re not the type of person to play with his feelings like that.”

Words are frozen in his throat. But Martino’s gaze is nothing but caring.

“Fili, I’m not accusing you of anything. You’re my friend too. I know that because of how we met, you feel protective over me, but friendships go both ways. You can tell me things. You don’t have to keep it all inside”

Filippo breathes in and slumps down. He’s tired, a bit lost. The offer is really tempting.

“Okay, I… okay. You won’t tell him what I said?”

Marti shakes his head.

“No, I won’t.”

“It boils down to this, really : I don’t want Elia to do something he might regret. He turned to me because he was feeling lost and confused and I was there. I think he’s just projecting gratitude onto me. It would’ve been wrong of me to let things between us escalate further than they have, no matter what I wanted.”

Marti is silent for a second.

“So, you rejected him to protect him?” he asks in a skeptical tone.

“Yeah.”

Marti leans back on his arms, his gaze not wavering. He’s searching his face and considering something. Then, he huffs at him.

“God, you really think this is why you’re doing it, don’t you?”

“What? Of course that’s why!”

“I’m calling bullshit. You want to protect him, so you decide what his feelings are without asking him about it and you make decisions for him? You’re not a mind reader Filippo, and despite everything, you haven’t actually known Elia for that long.”

Filippo stays silent.

“I think you’re the one who’s projecting. I think you really like him and that you’re scared he doesn’t like you back. I think you shut him out because of that. You’re so afraid of rejection you already decided not to consider the possibility he has actual feelings for you. This is about you, not him.”

Filippo is stunned. There’s a weight in his throat. Marti leans forward and grabs his shoulder.

“Fili, you’re handsome, smart, funny. You have a good heart. You’re so caring you’ve taken two almost strangers under your wing when they were going through difficult times. What is there not to like?”

He’s fighting a wave of emotion going through him as Marti's eyes stay fixed on him.

“You deserve to be happy. So let yourself be. Talk to him.”

Filippo chuckles wetly.

“Jesus, you’ve certainly matured quite a bit.”

Marti smiles at him.

“I had the best people helping me.”

Filippo tugs him forward into a hug.

“Okay. I’ll talk to him.”

“Good.”

 

Later, when the boys have left and they’ve eaten some lunch, Filippo joins Elia on the couch. His eyes are red and he seems exhausted but there’s something relieved about him, like a weight has been lifted off of his shoulders.

Elia puts his head on Filippo’s chest and smiles tiredly. Filippo puts his arm around him and hugs him close.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

He feels Elia nodding against him.

“All good. You were right. Them knowing… it’s better like this.”

“Well, I did tell you my advice isn’t all bad.”

Elia slaps his chest in retaliation, but there’s no strength behind the gesture. His fingers tangle in Filippo’s shirt and he leaves his hand there.

“Shut up, you idiot.”

There’s a beat of silence. In the quiet, Filippo is very aware of the warmth of the boy in his arms. He looks at him, at his soft brown hair tickling Filippo’s throat. His gentle grip on him makes Filippo’s heart beat faster. He’s almost afraid Elia might feel it in his chest. And he realizes all of them are right, Lucia and Marti. This boy is too good and too brave to deserve anything else than his honesty. Not here, though, and not right now. Elia has had an emotional day he still needs to process.

But if he waits any longer, he’s almost certain he’ll back down. Elia’s bravery needs to be met with bravery in return.

“Elia?” he says.

“Mmh?”

Elia sounds sleepy.

“I’m going to take some pictures in a park tomorrow afternoon for class. Do you want to come with?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Nervousness swells in Filippo’s stomach. Tomorrow afternoon. And then maybe, just maybe, he can have this. Sleepy cuddles on the couch, soft hair against his throat, warmth against his chest. All of that and more.

 

On Sunday morning, Elia goes to Gio’s place for a study session.

“I‘ve been procrastinating too much with all that’s been going on. I need to catch up if I want to pass my tests next week. Shoot me a text with when you get going, I’ll join you there.” he says before he leaves.

So after eating a quick lunch, Filippo packs his camera, puts on a light jacket and gets going. He sends out a text as soon as he’s there.

 

**To Elia : Hey, I’m at the Janiculum. Join me at the top of the hill.**

 

**From Elia : I’m leaving now.**

 

Filippo sets up his things while waiting. He takes shots of the scenic view. There are a few families enjoying the walk but it’s not too crowded. He takes a picture of a little girl pointing something out in the panorama to her dad.

He’s sitting on the wall reviewing his shots when Elia walks up to him.

“Hi!”

He looks up. Elia looks settled and peaceful in a way he hasn’t been since they met.

“Hey. How did studying go?”

Elia sits down next to him.

“It went fine. I’m gonna have to work hard to catch up but the boys all said they’d help. You get any good shots?”

Filippo shows him what he has so far.

“I’ve got to get more if I want to have enough to work with.”

He gets down from the wall and starts taking photographs again. He can feel Elia’s thoughtful gaze on him.

“So, what did you want to tell me?”

“What makes you think there was something I wanted to say?”

“Come on, Fili. I’m not an idiot.”

Filippo can’t look at him, so he fiddles with the lenses and keeps his eyes downcast. Elia lets him be.

“We never talked about what happened the other night.”

Elia breathes out loudly.

“Yeah. Listen, Filippo, if you’re not into me I can take it. I’ll get over it.”

“That’s not… that’s not… Elia, what I’m really afraid of is that you don’t know what you want.”

“What do you mean?”

Filippo looks through his camera, not quite brave enough to face him.

“I mean that you’re barely figuring yourself out and you’re turning to me because I’m there and available. You said so yourself, I’m the only single gay guy you know. I’ve been the experiment before, I don’t wanna go through that again.”

Elia huffs out a disbelieving laugh.

“Is this what this is about? Jesus, Fili, I only said that because I hoped it would get you to kiss me. If all I wanted was to experiment, I could’ve gone to a gay club and found someone willing in under two minutes, you know it.”

“Oh.”

“Besides, I’ve figured myself out. I’m bisexual.”

“Okay, but… Elia, I found you when you really weren’t doing well. How can you be sure you’re not just projecting because I helped you out? In any other circumstances, none of this would have happened.”

“Oh my god, you dumbass.”

Filippo finally looks up, more surprised than hurt. Elia is rubbing at his temples, annoyed.

“You think I like you just because you kept me off the streets and were there for me and I don’t know how to differentiate between being grateful and being into you?”

Filippo shrugs. He’s made him angry. That wasn’t part of the plan.

“You’re right, none of this would have happened. But we can’t spend our lives wondering what would have happened if this or that had been different. And, Fili, I noticed you at the Christmas party, long before any of this. I thought you were hot as hell. And Marti told us about you! I knew you were good to him. What you did for me, it just proved further how kind and amazing you are.”

Filippo doesn’t know what to say. He turns back to the view, watching the roofs of Rome in the afternoon light. The sight is quite breathtaking.

“I like you, Fili. I like how caring you are. I like how funny you are. I like that you drink herbal tea like it’s the best thing on Earth and that you’re passionate about photography and that you call me out on my shit. I even like that you pretend to be so put together but will eat nothing but junk food when you’re working too much. I like your bleached hair and your piercing and your tattoo. I just like you. Now the only question is, do you like me back?”

Filippo’s eyes are watering slightly. He turns to Elia who’s standing next to him. His face is open and earnest and so much more breathtaking than the view. How could he not like this brave, beautiful boy, who wears his heart on his sleeve?

He puts his hand on his cheek and touches their foreheads together and tells him :

“So much. I like you so much.”

Elia smiles and it feels like sunshine.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry I was such a jerk about it. Feelings are complicated.”

“Tell me about it.”

With all the talk out of the way, there’s only one thing left to do. So Filippo kisses him. He kisses him in front of the people still milling about and in front of the panorama and in front of all of Rome. He kisses him and it feels like everything has finally fallen into place. It feels like the start of something amazing.

Once they finally stop, they’re both panting for air. Filippo smiles wide. They untangle from each other but he offers the boy his hand and they intertwine their fingers.

“Let’s go home.” he says.

 

The next morning, Filippo wakes up with an armful of Elia and soft hair tickling his neck. He rubs his eyes and feels an uncontrollable smile on his face at the memories of the night before.

After they got home, Elia kissed him again with hunger. Filippo found himself pushed to his room by an impatient teenager. Elia showed no fear at all while taking his clothes off and, despite being the experienced one, Filippo barely knew what to do with himself faced with so much beautiful tan skin for his perusal. The lovemaking was passionate and tender and a little clumsy. They giggled into each other’s mouths more often than not, but Elia, though clearly unused to being with another boy, was full of eagerness and seemed giddy about everything they did. He explored Filippo’s body with awe and wonder obvious on his open face, completely shameless. By the time they were both panting and spent, every inch of skin pressed together, they were both so exhausted they fell asleep quickly with tangled limbs.

One of their phones goes off and Elia stirs next to him with a grumbled protest.

“Morning.” says Filippo.

The sight of Elia’s bed head is hopelessly endearing. He feels his heart soar with fondness. Elia smiles with half lidded eyes.

“Morning, handsome.”

His voice is sleep rough but his grin is breathtaking. The offending phone goes off again.

“Is that my phone?”

“I think so, yeah.”

Elia sits up and stretches lazily before grabbing his phone. He checks his messages and laughs softly at it.

“What is it?”

Elia shows him wordlessly. The phone is open to his group chat.

 

**From Gio : so, how did it go with Filippo?**

 

**From Luchino : yeah man, did you do the frick frack? you’re not in school, which could be a really good or a really bad thing. come on, the suspense is killing me.**

 

**From Marti : omg Luchi, the frick frack? how old are you, twelve? but seriously Elia, tell us.**

 

Filippo laughs heartily at the messages. Elia looks at him, thoughtful, then raises up the phone.

“What do you think, should we give them an update?” he says, his eyes full of mirth.

“Yeah, sure.”

So Elia takes a selfie of the two of them shirtless in bed, with hickeys visible on their necks. He sends it and shows him the caption.

 

**From you : Oh my god, guys, I can’t even spend the morning in bed with my boyfriend without you nosy assholes begging for your daily amount of gossip.**

 

After that, he throws the phone away, ignoring the incessant beeping of incoming texts. He turns back to Filippo, who’s still stretched out lazily on the bed.

“Did I give you a morning kiss?”

“As a matter of fact, you didn’t”

“Well, we need to fix this tragedy right away.”

And so they kiss softly, morning breath be damned. Elia breaks the embrace after a while and something passes over his features. Filippo caresses his cheek softly.

“What is it?”

“Marti asked his mom if I could stay with him, and she said yes.”

“Oh. Do you want to go?”

“Well, I know Ele is coming back soon, so I won’t have her room anymore.”

Right. Ele’s room. Filippo had started thinking of it as Elia’s room over the past few weeks. The idea of the apartment being void of Elia makes something panic in Filippo’s chest. Now that he finally has him, he can’t bear letting the boy go. So he speaks without even taking the time to think about it properly. Like it’s instinct.

“You could always move into my room. You don’t have to leave.”

Elia looks immediately relieved and his sunshine grin makes a return in full force.

“Oh thank god.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes, of course it’s a yes!”

Filippo laughs softly and the tight feeling that was threatening to overcome him dissipates.

“You were so fishing for the invite.”

“You know what, I’m not even gonna deny that. I didn’t wanna have to leave.”

Filippo smiles again.

“Good.”

And then, because they have all the time in the world to worry about the rest, they kiss again.

Everything feels right.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> This is loosely based on the Come Una Fenice music video. If you haven't seen it, I highly recommend it. Francesco Centorame is amazing in it.  
> Obviously, if you find someone in that kind of state after using drugs, you should call an ambulance immediately.  
> Title from 'Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros - Home'  
> The Janiculum is a hill in Rome. It looks beautiful, look it up.  
> You can find me on tumblr @feministfangurl  
> A thousand thanks to smileyrametta. You're a true babe.


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